Three Heroes
by Danzinora Switch
Summary: Sequel to 'Two Survivors'. Kirk, McCoy, and now Spock are called as part of a secret Starfleet mission. Sabotage finds them the only people left to complete the task. Adjusting to each other, they have to work together against all odds thrown at them under the looming border of a rising empire...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, here it is! This takes place about 6-7 years after 'Two Survivors' and explores the first mission with the Big Three (Kirk, McCoy, and Spock). Canon will still be involved, though not as intensely as the first book. Here, Kirk has been promoted (McCoy, too) and Spock is a commander on the _Enterprise_. It may help in a few parts to have read 'Two Survivors' first, but the references won't be overwhelming. I figure this will be an action story mixed with a character study.**

**At any rate, please enjoy!**

* * *

James T. Kirk relaxed in the starbase's diner, reclining in his chair so that the two front legs were just a hair off the floor. He sipped a peculiarly sweet juice- this particular starbase was closer to the Andorian homeworld, so many of its personnel, foods, and rec activity were more traditional to the species. Not that Kirk minded, the drink was good, company pleasant, and on this occasion the base was buzzing not with blue Andorians, but pinker humans.

He watched the activity mildly. He didn't know many of the faces. On other occasions he wouldn't hesitate to make friends- but today he was waiting for a certain someone.

Kirk continued to sip his drink, keeping watch for a green skin tone and pointed ears. No, he had no _guarantee_ that Spock would be here… but he figured the Vulcan must show up sooner or later. The orders Kirk received could apply to Spock as well:

**Starfleet Classification A-Red: You have been selected based on outstanding merit and performance on a starship and planetary investigations for a 31-B Priority mission. All persons who receive this message are to report to Starbase 27 for briefing. We have decided that your quick-thinking skills, aptitude for decision-making, and willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty will be valuable in this vital mission. Replies will be expected before Stardate 0118.6 with your commanding officer's signature. We encourage full cooperation.**

By 'encourage' they meant 'expect'. Kirk shook his head, gazing across the diner. Starfleet was looking for its best people who were still non-vital. Something major was up, and Kirk was certain Spock would be called.

He'd gotten to know the half-Vulcan on and off for the past several years, particularly in the last three. Their respective starships had been assigned a few missions together, and Kirk enjoyed the brilliant, green-blooded man. Spock also didn't seem uncomfortable around Kirk, apparently recognizing his insights and interpretations as "illogically logical". Whatever the reason, their acquaintance had morphed into a light friendship. Kirk was eager to do another mission with him.

Sure enough, his gamble paid off and he spotted Spock wandering into the diner. Grinning, he dusted himself off, stood, and waved.

"Spock!"

Vulcan hearing picked it up across the diner, and Spock deftly made his way towards him. "Commander Kirk," he greeted.

Kirk waved him off. "It's Jim. I thought you might be here." He smiled when Spock raised an eyebrow, questioning his precognition. "Who better for a secret mission?"

"Ah. You surmised based off of the orders that I would qualify. Clearly, you have inferred correctly."

Kirk chuckled. "Why don't we sit down, Spock? It will be a bit before all of the transports get in… do you want a drink?"

"Negative, I am well," Spock replied. Kirk shrugged and they sat down.

"So how are things on the _Enterprise_?" he asked casually.

"Adequate and efficient," Spock answered. "Captain Pike is an admirable commander."

"Oh, I'm sure," Kirk agreed nonchalantly. "He has plenty of experience. The job suits him."

He could tell Spock was a little confused by the vague compliments. Kirk sipped his drink and decided to change the subject.

"Do you have any ideas what this mission may be about?" he asked.

"Negative. I was not informed."

"Any _guesses_, perhaps?"

Spock looked at him oddly. "I do not 'guess'."

"Could you?"

Spock folded his arms. "'Guessing' implies an illogical deduction with no data. I prefer to 'estimate' based on what information is available." He turned his head. "Right now, there are not enough facts to form a coherent hypothesis."

Kirk shrugged. "They might be there." Spock looked at him as he continued. "Fact: Starfleet is calling on its best from all corners of the Federation. Particularly those with space-field experience. Fact: they're not calling in seasoned officials or whole starships, so we can conclude that we're considered 'expendable'. Fact: the meeting place is this starbase. We're somewhat in Andorian space. But beyond, in the other direction, is disputed territory. It's likely that our mission is there." He leaned back in his chair. "Am I doing good so far, Spock?"

"Logical," the Vulcan conceded. "It is a standpoint I had not considered."

"You just need to think outside the box," Kirk suggested. "Consider all viewpoints- if not of the mission itself, then examine the _orders_."

"I shall endeavor to remember that," Spock mentioned earnestly.

Kirk grinned. "Good." He finished his drink and set down the empty glass with a _clunk._ He watched Spock survey the milling crowd. "See anyone you know?"

Spock turned back to him. "I am familiar with several faces," he reported. "And others I know from their Starfleet files." He scrutinized an incoming group. "For example, that is Dr. Eisenberg, from the field of architectural studies. And that is Lt. Braden, who serves on the U.S.S. _Carolina_, and over there is Dr. McCoy, from the-"

Kirk choked on his own tongue. "Bones is here?" he asked, rising.

Spock had no time to puzzle the unusual phrase before Kirk spotted the doctor and started running over. "Bones!"

He caught him just as he turned around. "Jim!" McCoy exclaimed. He grasped his hand excitedly. "It's good to see you! Though, on second thought, I probably should've known you would be here."

Kirk grinned. "Great to see you too, Bones. It's been too long."

"It has," McCoy agreed.

"Did you just get in?"

"Oh, yes, a shuttle from the _Beecher_ dropped a load of us off." He stretched his back. "Cramped, but I'll take it any day over the transporter."

Kirk shook his head, smiling. Some things never change. "Well, why don't we sit down? I have a friend I would like you to meet…"

They walked back over to the table Spock was waiting at. "Spock," Kirk said heartily as the Vulcan rose from his seat. "I would like you to meet Dr. Leonard McCoy. Bones, this is Commander Spock of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_."

"How do you do?" McCoy asked politely.

"I am in good health," Spock replied. "Was your journey here adequate?"

"For the most part, yes."

Kirk clapped his hands together. "Well, this is fantastic! Tell you what: you two sit down and get acquainted, and I'll bring us all back some drinks. They have an amazing, sweet juice here that I _insist_ you try…" he ambled off towards the counter as Spock and McCoy sat down.

For several moments, both endured the awkward silence that comes when two strangers with a mutual friend are thrown together. McCoy drummed his fingers on the table, leaning his chair back slightly. Spock sat ramrod straight with his hands folded, fingertips resting against each other.

"Well," McCoy cleared his throat. "Jim did say to get acquainted…" he shifted. "How ya been, Spock?"

Spock turned his head. "I informed you that I was in good health."

"I know that," McCoy replied. "Now also know that I'm not a doctor every second of the day. So I'm going to ask again: how ya been? _Outside_ of a health-related context."

Spock considered his words. "I am… well."

McCoy looked at him expectantly for a minute, then sighed, and slumped back into his chair. "I suppose that's a start," he muttered to himself. "That's good, Spock."

"I do not understand. How is my replying 'good'?"

McCoy blinked. "I meant that it was good that you are well, and not _not_ well." He leaned forward. "Cause see, it would be bad if you were not well, because it would be bad, and it's always better to be well, that's why I became a doctor, and so if you _weren't_ well, then I would have to do something about it- not that _that's_ the bad part, good Lord no, but it's simply bad that you would not be feeling well."

Spock stared at him, trying very hard to process the illogical monologue. "Doctor," he began hesitantly. "I thought you said that you were not a doctor 'every second of the day'."

A change came across McCoy's face. "And I'm not," he insisted. "Right now, I'm trying to get to know Jim's Vulcan friend!"

"Ah," Spock said. "In that case, 'I am pleased to make your acquaintance'."

McCoy opened his mouth and closed it. "Fine," he grumbled. "I guess that counts." He contemplated for a moment, sighed, then shrugged. "So, what do you want to know?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not follow."

"We're supposed to get 'acquainted' with each other," McCoy pointed out.

"I admit to a lack of experience in that field," Spock confessed.

_Good Lord, it's like talking to a computer_, McCoy thought. He fumbled with his hands. "Just… what are you curious about?"

"Everything," Spock answered.

McCoy flummoxed. "Everything?"

"Indeed. That is part of the reason why I sought to become a science officer. It allows me to discover new and previously unknown things. Space holds infinite unknowns, and serving aboard a starship is a fascinating way to-"

"I wasn't speaking literally!" McCoy interrupted. He pressed a hand to his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "Getting acquainted with each other involves _both_ parties learning and asking questions about one another. I was asking if you had an questions for _me_."

Spock seemed barely ruffled. McCoy wondered if he had surprised the Vulcan. The man was silent for several moments. He went back to drumming his fingers on the table, desperately hoping Jim would get back soon.

"How did you meet Kirk?" Spock asked suddenly.

McCoy paused and shrugged. "We fell off the same cliff."

Spock blinked. "I am unfamiliar with that expression."

"No, really, we fell off a cliff into a canyon."

Spock took a moment to consider this before asking his next question. "How long have you known each other?"

McCoy frowned, counting and thinking back in his head. "I'd say about, oh, 6 or 7 years."

"Oh, at least 6." They turned as Kirk arrived and set down the three drinks he was balancing. "Sorry for the wait- apparently word got out about the juice and suddenly _everyone_ wanted one…" he broke off and stared as McCoy instantly threw his head back and chugged half the glass.

"Careful, Bones. It's got a strong taste."

"I needed it," he gasped, plopping his drink down.

Kirk looked between the doctor and the Vulcan. McCoy was glaring at his drink. Spock looked like he had silently suffered a root canal operation.

"Well," Kirk said. "I'm glad you two met, and I hope you will continue to learn more about each other." He paused. "And get along," he added hastily. His eyes unfocused as he looked back behind them, over their heads.

"I think everyone's here," he murmured. "They're leaving for the central room." He shook out of his brief daze. "Spock, Bones," he said, brushing past them, expecting them to follow.

"Let's go see what this is all about."

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**Reviews appreciated! Hope y'all like it so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, thank you Scottea, mtcbones, and ThatSassyCaptain for reviewing! (Scottea, I like the analogy with the puppies, been watching two of them like that all day). Here's the next chapter to help get the info of things rolling some more. I'm trying to pace myself and not rush to each action scene. Enjoy!**

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The three of them merged into the crowd, following it to the starbase's main briefing room. Kirk could already feel the excitement and adrenaline surging through his veins, making his heart beat faster.

There were no, or perhaps not enough, seats inside, indicating that the message should be brief. Kirk stood on the side to get a glimpse of the podium, Spock on his right, and McCoy on his left.

People were still filing in. Kirk entertained himself by watching them, trying to see if he knew anyone. Would Gary be here? He saw someone with an eye patch lurking in a corner. That surprised him. Considering that Starfleet was looking for the best, it was odd to see someone with less than full faculties.

_Don't judge,_ he chided himself. _For all you know he's the best demolitions expert or something._

The crowd suddenly hushed and Kirk turned to see a high-ranking admiral cross the room. Stiff and official, he walked firmly up to the podium and looked steely at the recruits.

"Gentlemen," he said crisply, addressing the ladies by the military 'mister'. "If you read your orders, you know in general why you're here. I'm here to tell you specifically."

Kirk already liked this man. Straight and to the point. He glanced to his left and saw that Bones was actually listening. That was a good sign.

A projection appeared behind the admiral. The lights dimmed and a spinning planet appeared.

"Mantiev," he said, stressing the last syllable. "Is a class M, ringed planet with an A-4 society. They have spacefaring experience and some warp power. However, the planet is going through massive civil unrest."

The projection switched to several pictures and videos of Mantiev's surface. Firebombing and screaming commenced, with war vehicles and various flags. The footage abruptly ended.

"First Contact was 28 years ago, and an answer to join the Federation was never given. However, reconnaissance, who took the pictures you saw, reported that the rebels request Federation aid. The current government, when approached on this matter, refused." The admiral paused.

"If the rebels manage to take the capitol, then we may be able to step in and provide help. But more importantly…"

The projection changed to a view of the solar system. It shrank as the image zoomed out until finally, flickering in the distance, was a simulated line representative of something much, much bigger.

"The area which you see," the admiral continued. "Is a disputed zone. Beyond that lies the Klingon Empire."

Whispers scattered back and forth across the crowd. The admiral waited a moment before silencing them.

"Though the Klingons have so far not made any advances, it is imperative that we get a foothold into the territory. Mantiev is a strategic point."

Kirk saw where this was going. He braced himself.

"With all of this in mind, you are an anonymous group giving the rebels a… _nudge_… if you will, towards victory. It has been agreed through transmissions that if provided some help, the new government will support and join the Federation. But if asked, you heard none of this. As of now, you are not Starfleet. We did not send you. You are a special force, chosen by your skills and experience, for your non-existent task. If captured alone, you acted alone. If captured together, it was just the two of you. Am I clear?"

At his tone, everyone straightened and nodded.

"You are considered expendable. This mission never happened." The admiral gave one, curt nod. "Dismissed."

* * *

"Well, how about that," McCoy commented as they exited. "They pull us away from where we were happily at our stations and then drop us into the middle of a civil war. Oh, and don't forget: _it didn't happen_."

"You could always refuse, Bones," Kirk mentioned.

"Sure, you really believe that?" he retorted.

"Starfleet has always allowed refusal as an option in these matters, unless the situation was an emergency," Spock pointed out.

They filed in line at a supply station. "Well, the way they talked it sure sounded dire," McCoy quipped. He fumbled when he suddenly received a pair of black pants and a black shirt. Kirk chuckled and took his clothes next. Black down to the socks. Starfleet was trying to be as nondescript as possible.

Spock simply accepted his bundle and followed the two chatting humans to one of the ships.

The speeders were small, but fast. They were dark and sleek, and designed for quick transport. Other than the cockpit, most of its body was where the people would sit, ready for action. Two escape pods were mounted on the sides, at the junction of the cockpit and the hold.

Spock ran through all of their designs in his head. Most of the recruits, he observed, were going on one speeder. He wondered what the other was for.

He stepped onto the lowered hatch, Kirk and McCoy right behind him. Just before moving, he caught a glimpse of a man with an eye patch standing with a few others. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Fascinating."

Then he went inside.

* * *

Kirk sat down in one of the two rows of seats. The rows faced each other and extended down the length of the hold on each side. Behind each row was a long crevice with lids propped up every now and then. It looked to be a continuous storage compartment- not that they had anything to store. Their uniforms were left behind on the base, traded for the black garb.

He fingered the stretchy collar, shifting in his seat. Spock was to his left, closer to the cockpit, and McCoy was on his right.

"I'm a doctor, not a mercenary," he grumbled, eyeing the other people.

Everyone was settled when in marched a ginormous man. He, too, was clad in the black clothes, though it seemed to stretch tight over his chest and shoulders. He had a close buzz cut and a scar angling from his right ear across his cheek. He stood in the middle of the hold and clasped his beefy hands behind him.

"Listen up!" he barked in a throaty voice. It boomed and bounced off of the metal walls. The hold fell silent.

"My name is Commander Tritoff. You will call me 'sir!' or 'Commander!'" He paced slowly, eyeing them with contempt. "Most of you don't know each other, but you will know me! You will do what I say, when I say it, and how I say to. Understood?!"

"Yes sir!" Everyone nervously barked.

"Good! You will be with me the entire time. The goal is to take the capitol government building. The city has not been breached, but the rebels have intense supplies and fortifications around it. We will be joining them, but you will listen to _me_." Kirk thought his ears would go deaf.

"We will breach the city at its weakest point, and fight to the capitol. Once there, we are charged with the capture of the leader Lodag. Understood, soldiers?!"

"Yes sir!"

"No."

Inwardly, Kirk cringed. He didn't like Tritoff either, but did McCoy have to bring his attention over to them?

Titroff stalked menacingly over to their seats and glared down at McCoy. McCoy just looked back up innocently.

"You have something to say?" Titroff rumbled dangerously.

"Yes. What about the rest of us? The doctors and other aid? We're not soldiers."

"That can wait after we have taken the capitol," Titroff declared. "In the meantime, _Doctor_, you are still Starfleet and will answer to _me_."

He was just turning away when McCoy huffed. "According to the briefing we _aren't_ Starfleet right now."

For a moment, Kirk thought Titroff was going to have an aneurism. The tendons on his thick neck bulged and even the back of his head was turning red.

Just when he was sure the man was going to explode, Kirk quickly broke in. "Don't mind him," he placated. "He's still loyal." He kicked McCoy in the shin. "Even if he does have a big mouth."

Titroff seemed to calm a few notches. "If his big mouth gets him killed, it won't be my fault," he grated, the massive jaw twitching. "That is all!"

Titroff left them and stormed to the opposite end of the hold, near the hatch where they came on. Probably to be the first one out. Kirk watched him sit down and sighed.

"You know, you _are_ going to kill yourself with that mouth one day," he commented as the speeder hummed to life."

"Hasn't yet," McCoy replied. "And it continues to give me satisfaction."

"Doctor," Spock said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "That is highly illogical. Unless your mouth has been removed from the control of your brain, it itself cannot give you satisfaction, nor, Commander, could it kill him, unless in the aforementioned scenario it managed to imbibe something poisonous. Yet that also would require the use of hands to furnish such an act-"

"Jim, is he really suggesting that I would poison myself?" McCoy demanded, shocked. The speeder shuddered for a moment, the pitch changing as it left the starbase.

"Doctor, I am merely hypothesizing a scenario where you would _unwittingly_ poison yourself because your mouth and hands were acting on their own will."

"Well, that sounds pretty 'illogical'," McCoy threw right back at him. "Body parts, individually, don't have their own wills, and if it were mind control then there would be more than just a _mouth and hands_ that would be acting out of sorts. It'd be the whole person!"

"Doctor, I am well aware of that," Spock pointed out. Kirk squeezed back into his chair as they leaned forward across him slightly, really going at it. Spock didn't look like he understood why someone was arguing with him. "It was simply a hypothetical scenario."

"But the odds of that _ever _happening-"

"-are approximately 14,001,564,039 to 1," Spock reported.

McCoy gaped. "And how exactly do you know that?"

"It is a simple matter of probability and logistics, Doctor," Spock replied smoothly. "One isolates the two variables, in this case, the mouth and hands, and then also surmises what events would cause their control to be undone-"

Kirk sank back into his chair as McCoy spluttered and now _really_ started hashing out.

This was going to be a long trip.

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**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hiya, peeps! WOW, those reviews are awesome! Thank you Scottea, lepidoptlover, GSFan01, Guest, mtcbones, and ThatSassyCaptain! I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying this!**

**A few things I forgot to mention earlier: the obvious disclaimer (I don't own Star Trek (sigh)) and that Three Heroes is also a mega-story project. That being said, I shall treat it as I did Two Survivors- while working on it I will also post other, shorter stories. I have many backed up in my brain, waiting to get typed.**

**Anyways, please enjoy chapter three!**

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Space has never been considered small, so the trip from Starbase 27 to Mantiev, even with 23rd century technology, took many hours. It wasn't long enough for overnight rooms and space, but somewhere into the middle of a standard night everyone started dropping off in their seats.

Kirk stayed awake, trying to rest his head against the bulkhead that was just too far away. Cursed storage space. Who designed these things anyway?

Bones was out like a light next to him. His debate with Spock had gone on and on and would have continued had Kirk not silenced them. So the doctor stretched out and went to sleep. He had neglected to fasten the seatbelt straps like other sleepers, and was so slumped over Kirk was counting down how long it would take him to fall out of his seat.

"Commander."

Kirk turned the other way, towards Spock. The Vulcan was still wide awake- he only looked more serene.

"It's Jim," he said, stopping Spock for a moment. "Call me Jim."

Spock licked his lips and hesitated. "Very well." He nodded towards McCoy. "Would you like me to move him to a more preferable position?"

Kirk glanced down to where McCoy had now planted his face on his right shoulder. "He's fine, Spock. Though if my arm goes numb, I'll let you know."

Spock nodded. "In that case, I suggest you also get some sleep like the doctor," he advised, not disturbing the peace of the hold. "We will be very busy once we land."

Kirk gave a small smile. "Thanks, Spock."

He stretched out again and closed his eyes, listening to the constant hum of the engines. Every now and then the ship rocked, swaying its inhabitants slightly. McCoy muttered and shifted, pressing more firmly on Kirk's shoulder. Kirk opened his eyes briefly at the change and glimpsed a man walking down the length of the hold. Probably to ask the pilot something. He closed his eyes and heard the man return to the other end.

Spock unclipped his seatbelt next to him and rose, vanishing off towards the cockpit. It was a moment before Kirk noticed, and he frowned, raising his head to stare after the Vulcan.

Suddenly the calm snapped.

The lights blazed on all across the hold as a volley of commotion erupted near the hatch. Kirk whipped his head the other way and saw the man who had walked the hold, as well as the man with the eye patch and a few others, firing weapons at everyone. There was no time to react- each person hit slumped over almost instantly. There was a shudder when Titroff's frame hit the floor.

McCoy jolted awake the moment it all started. "What in-?!" he exclaimed.

Both men jerked back when a volley of tiny darts shot at them from the men's weapons. McCoy swore and yanked something out of his leg- the tiny dart spewed a clear liquid avidly into the air.

"Drugs," he gasped even as it registered in Kirk's mind. This was sabotage.

Bones wavered slightly next to him and Kirk did the first thing he could think of. Grabbing Bones, he opened a lid to the storage unit behind them and pulled them both back, slamming it shut.

It was completely dark, and barely muffled the skirmish going on above them. McCoy was almost dead weight- Kirk didn't know how much of the dart's substance had gotten into his system before the doctor pulled it out. He wasn't unconscious- but wasn't entirely with it, either.

For once, the continuous unit was a blessing. Kirk squeezed through on his belly, dragging McCoy with him, angling down towards the cockpit. Halfway there McCoy started muttering- as to what he was saying Kirk couldn't guess.

They reached the end- Kirk thought his arm was going to fall off- and he sucked in a breath. They had to be fast. Who knew what was going on in the hold.

Kirk opened the lid above him and burst out. They were right by the mini-hall near the cockpit. The hold behind them was a mess as unconscious soldiers lay left and right.

McCoy stumbled over his feet as Kirk pulled him roughly around the bend. They found themselves facing one of the two escape pods- and this one was powering up.

Kirk banged on the hatch desperately. Surprisingly, it opened, and Spock looked at them impassively.

"I suggest you get inside, Commander."

Kirk heaved McCoy in and the they collapsed on two sets of chairs. Untangling himself, Kirk straightened in his seat as Spock sealed the door and completed the liftoff sequences.

"What's the status, Spock?" Kirk asked, wildly trying to figure out how the situation suddenly flew South.

"We are near the planet Mantiev, Commander. Its rings and circling debris are coming into sensor range. As for the takeover, it can be surmised that they are government troops from the planet."

There was a jolt as the pod jettisoned from the speeder, twirling out into space. McCoy squirmed in his seat, eyes glassy.

"I suggest we return to the Starbase, Commander," Spock said. "This mission has clearly failed, and we cannot-"

"No, wait." Kirk rose from his seat, McCoy tugging at his sleeve. "We might could salvage this."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Commander, the special task force has been lost. What remain are only ourselves and anyone else who may have made it to the second escape pod."

"But you were at the briefing, this mission's too important to cancel," Kirk persisted. "Let me contact Starfleet-" he broke off when McCoy nearly toppled into him. "Here, hold him." He thrust Spock towards McCoy.

Kirk sat down in the vacated pilot's seat and frantically tried to raise the Starbase. Spock looked slightly uncomfortable as McCoy finally keeled over in his lap.

"Starbase 27, come in Starfleet, this is an emergency," Kirk pounded on the dashboard.

"Hay Shpock," McCoy slurred, still fighting the drug. Spock tried to lift him out his lap but he flopped like a rag doll. "You have incre'bly poin'y ears."

Spock resisted the urge to sigh.

An answer crackled over the escape pod's speaker. _"Starbase 27- why in blazes are you calling?"_

"There's been an incident," Kirk replied hastily. "A group onboard has either turned on us, or was snuck aboard to sabotage the mission."

"Commander," Spock called. He was deftly trying to keep McCoy's hands away from his ears. "I have reason to believe it is a group from Mantiev. Borlos, head of Mantiev's tactical government branch, the man with the eye patch, was on the speeder."

Kirk relayed the information. It also explained why Spock left- he had also spotted the eye patched Borlos speaking with others at the Starbase- only now did he realize that the man who walked the hold was in that group. Spock knew trouble was coming and prepared for it. "Request new orders," he added at the end. "Though note that the three of us are still willing to continue with the mission."

The speaker crackled. Kirk waited as the connection wavered, anxiously wanting an answer. McCoy renewed his efforts to poke Spock's ears and the Vulcan kept trying to grab the slippery human.

"If you would please… Doctor… restrict your movements," he grated out.

"_Sh!_" Kirk hissed as the connection came back to life. He turned up the volume.

_"__Continue on to Mantiev, Kirk,"_ came the admiral's voice. _"Join the rebels outside the capitol and see if you can try a covert strike, considering your numbers. If you can get the others back fine, but if it's too much then don't risk it. We can't lose any more people-"_

"Dammit wouldja _stop?!_" McCoy whined frustratedly, batting Spock's collarbone.

"Doctor, if you would only cease moving-" Spock still tried to capture the human's wrists to keep him still.

"Stop cat-fighting!" Kirk yelled at them. He turned the volume up even more to be heard over them. "Acknowledged, Starbase 27. Will comply." He closed the link and swiveled in his chair, noticing that it had suddenly gone quiet behind him.

Spock was setting McCoy back in his chair. The doctor was unconscious, but as Kirk had seen him fight the drug it didn't make any sense. He turned to Spock curiously.

"The circumstances called that I use what is known as a Vulcan nerve pinch," Spock replied to the unspoken question stiffly. "It was… necessary."

Kirk nodded sagely, his eyes not betraying the humor welling up inside. "Well, if it helps your conscience at all, he's going to be mortified when he wakes up."

"Succumbing to the nerve pinch is no cause for embarrassment, as unconsciousness is the desired effect. If you are referring to his previous behavior, the doctor _was_ fighting an unknown drug."

Kirk nodded again, still holding his 'innocent' face. "I doubt that will be of much consolation to him, but I'm glad that you don't feel slighted or embarrassed."

"Commander, I am a Vulcan. I am incapable of feeling 'embarrassed'," Spock pointed out.

"Oh, I know," Kirk slowly turned his chair back around. "And for the umpteenth time, Spock- call me 'Jim'."

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**Okay, they're on their way! Reviews are appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay! It's here! I'd been hard-pressed to write this chapter, but I finally found an inspirational position in my chair and suddenly churned this out in no time. Thank you ThatSassyCaptain, Scottea, BballGalKaitlin, GSFan01, and mtcbones for your reviews! This chapter's got a little more action going for it, and not all of it was planned (but I like it nevertheless). Enjoy!**

* * *

The rings surrounding Mantiev were more like floating debris. Drifting rocks and chunks rolled past in a loose orbit. It made for tricky flying, but it also meant one thing in their favor: they could tail the speeder without getting noticed.

McCoy had finally awakened and most of the drug seemed to be out of his system. He stubbornly refused to talk about, or even acknowledge, his earlier behavior. Perhaps it was for the best. Kirk didn't really want to have to listen to a fumbled apology meeting a confused Vulcan.

They slowly followed the hijacked speeder, ducking behind the wayward space rocks for cover.

"It is logical that it will land near the capitol, if not in it itself," Spock said, standing near Kirk, who was at the controls. "We may be able to identify the rebel entrenchments surrounding the city."

"But we don't know the landing point," Kirk pointed out. "They might inadvertently believe that we are the wrong type of people."

Spock nodded. "Indeed."

The pod was silent for a moment. McCoy stretched. "Looks like a calculated risk," he mused.

Kirk nodded grimly. "Yes." Leaning over, he flipped a few toggles. "Okay, here's how we're going to do this. We're going to break away from the speeder's line of flight at the edge of the atmosphere and then dive as fast a feasible for the rebel camp, come what may. Let us hope, gentlemen, that we do not get shot by airborne security on our way down."

McCoy sat up in his chair and buckled his seatbelt.

Kirk eased on the throttle, slowly pulling out from behind a large meteor. Spock sat down on the other chair and also fastened his seatbelt.

"They're entering the atmosphere," Kirk reported. He sucked in a breath. "Showtime."

He jabbed a button, and the pod shot towards the surface.

Everyone was forced back into their chairs at the sudden surge of G-forces. The outer hull heated up and leaked into their room, raising the temperature. The craft shuddered as it peeled through the layers of atmosphere.

Kirk grit his teeth and the controls. Visibility suddenly dropped as they cut through the cloud layer.

"Weather reports-" Kirk forced out, the pod bucking sharply. "I have a feeling… _low_ cloud cover… gonna be… not much room between bottom of clouds and ground-!"

"Angels have mercy on our souls," McCoy lifted his eyes up as the pod shook violently and showed no signs of stopping.

Next to him, Spock looked at the doctor curiously, merely raising an eyebrow. One might have thought he was relaxing in an empty room for all the reaction the Vulcan showed to their predicament.

Kirk squinted through the windshield. Grey wisps whipped by, glowing orange from their fiery descent. And in the next instant the clouds were completely gone, and dark brown earth was barreling up towards them.

He shouted and pulled hard at the controls. The escape pod rocketed upwards, now flying parallel to Mantiev's surface. Buildings and trees suddenly popped into view, reaching up to touch the underside of the spacecraft.

"Landing in 5!" Kirk shouted. "4! 3!-!"

They imploded.

* * *

Ferras halted, raising a hand to still the troop following him. They stopped and went quiet, listening. Ferras sniffed the air, shouldered his rifle, and crept forward over the ridge. Inching his head over, he peered to see what had made the sky smoke earlier in the evening light.

The expanse of prairie stretching from their rebel encampments and the capitol was normally empty. However, as Ferras surveyed the grassy plain, he quickly spied a dull grey space craft smoking in a small crater.

He signaled his men closer, and gingerly approached it. Three figures were emerging and picking their way across the debris. Ferras neared them, and picked up their words.

"'Landing', he says," one muttered, stumbling away from the hatch. "More like 'near-fatal crash'. And you didn't even get the count right!"

"Bones, it's tough to think when you're zipping out of control over a planet at 80 miles per hour," another figure retorted. He nearly tripped over part of the hull embedded in the ground.

"Fortunately, escape pods are designed for possible crash-landings and fully equipped with shock absorbants and safety measures," a third figure, unruffled, mentioned dryly.

"So you agree that this is a _crash_ and not a _landing_," the first one, Bones, pointed out.

"I think it went well," the blond figure stated.

Bones gaped and spread his arms to behold the remnants of the pod. "Do you see this Jim? Does it look flight-worthy to you?"

As 'Jim' surveyed the wreckage the third figure merely said "We are intact, though our vessel is not. I believe this qualifies as a 'crash-landing'."

"Thank you, Spock," Jim said.

"Jim, he didn't exactly _agree_ with you…"

"Hold it!" Ferras hissed, interrupting their bickering. The three men froze and turned towards him, raising their arms at his aimed rifle. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The blond one stepped forward after glancing in the distance behind him. "I'm Commander James T. Kirk of Starfleet and the Federation," he lowered his voice. "Are you our rebel contacts?"

"Possibly," Ferras replied cryptically. He motioned the other two with his rifle. "Who are they?"

"Commander Spock and Dr. Leonard McCoy," Kirk answered. "Also Starfleet."

"I see." Ferras's grip tightened on the trigger. "We did ask for Starfleet aid- but we expected more than three men."

"There was a speeder full of us," Kirk answered quickly. "Unfortunately, it was sabotaged on the journey here. We are the only ones who managed to escape."

Ferras didn't move for a long time. "What good are three men?" he growled. "We might as well take Galiat and Mantiev by ourselves."

"You could," Kirk shrugged, stepping forward. "But we are skilled in combat and field missions. We know tactics that may be of use to you and are still willing to assist in any way we can. If you are desperate to get rid of us, then we shall find a way to rescue the other members of our troop- they must be held prisoner somewhere in the capitol, and you may want to see what more of us together are capable of."

Ferras considered all of this for a moment. He was burning in fury that Starfleet- who claimed to value all forms of life- only deigned to send three men. But if what Kirk said was true, then it posed a problem. Either their space transmissions had been hacked, or there was a traitor amongst them.

The one with blue eyes spoke up, catching his attention. "One of the men who led the sabotage assault- he was identified as Borlos."

Ferras's head snapped up, muscles tightening. "Borlos?" he hissed. "This is not good. A serious breach has happened." He looked over the small, damaged craft. Grudgingly, he lowered his rifle and motioned the men closer.

"If you are who you say you are, and what you claim has happened is true, then we shall try to make do with what you bring. You will come with us to our base camp. Torleone will inspect you… and your story."

He turned and motioned for a couple of his men to walk with the Federation members. No, they weren't prisoners, but that could quickly change. Ferras no longer trusted people easily, as a result from the long, tiresome conflict.

But they would work out the details at base camp.

* * *

Kirk marveled the camp. They entered from the east and beheld tents and shacks and crumbling buildings set up several structures deep before a neck of woods. There were people cooking food, treating wounded, and watching them as they passed. One thing he noticed was that there were very few weapons- at least in plain sight. Ferras's rifle seemed to be the baddest of them all, and it by itself wasn't much.

Torleone was apparently the current rebel leader, or at least, of this squadron. He was an older man with leathery skin, but bright green eyes. Despite his rough-worn appearance, he greeted them each with a tight smile and a handshake.

"Torleone," Ferras said crisply. "The Starfleet 'aid'."

Torleone narrowed his eyes.

"We were attacked," Kirk broke in quickly. "There was a speeder with roughly 50 of us. A sabotage group led by Borlos took out most of our men- we managed to escape."

"I brought them here to verify their story," Ferras maintained steadily.

Torleone nodded slowly. "It fits with information I just received from the capitol, Galiat," he spoke. His voice warm and liquidy, like a still pond on a hot summer day. Only a slight waver betrayed any signs of age and long battle. "A Starfleet ship was landed inside the square and its personnel were escorted off. I had begun to fear the Federation had betrayed us."

"Never," Kirk stated firmly. "We were caught in a surprise assault. I, Kirk, Mr. Spock, and Doctor McCoy escaped and we tried to contact you. We are still willing to provide you help with your mission- in any way we can."

Torleone nodded thoughtfully. "You will prove useful."

"Chief," Ferras interrupted. "What can three men do?"

"Many things," Torleone replied, looking Ferras in the eyes. "And we need every person possible. I'm not going to turn these gentlemen away." He turned back to the trio, who straightened. "As an unofficial figure of authority, I welcome you to Mantiev." He gave that tight smile again.

"You will eat with us for tonight- it may not be dining but our rations are scarce. You will rest, and I shall brief you on our plans in the morning. We thank you for your presence."

Kirk inclined his head in an acknowledging bow. "Our thanks for your hospitality. We have had a difficult journey."

"Yes, I would dare say so."

The three were consequently introduced to some cots under a structure that was no more than a tarp set as a roof held by four posts. The food was a mixture of grown goods and army meals, but none of the men complained. The natives generally gave them plenty of space and so they watched the camp proceedings from under their tarp.

"A remarkable parallel to Earth culture," Spock remarked. "The style with which they created a mobile camp is almost identical to your mid-twentieth century."

Kirk shrugged, munching on a fruit that tasted vaguely like an apple. "Whatever works. You just utilize whatever you have around and make sure that you don't waste anything."

"And you still have to remember that this is a different culture," McCoy reminded them. "They have different greetings, technology, customs, and apparently table manners judging by the looks they're giving us." His gaze found a tiny group of young Mantiev natives who quickly scurried away.

"That's true," Kirk frowned. "We were briefed on the mission but not necessarily the culture. Let's hope we don't start an incident with these people."

"That should be avoidable," Spock replied. "By observing and mimicking their own interactions, we should be able to gather enough data to blend into their society without too much difficulty."

"Yes, but then we have to watch out for the rarer circumstances," McCoy chuckled. "The ones that you _don't_ see every day- and can cause an embarrassing misunderstanding."

"The odds of that happening are 12,138 to 1," Spock answered.

"But it's happened to us before," Kirk shook his head.

McCoy frowned. "Jim, I think you and I are still married on Tiatulus III."

"Bones, I think you're right," Kirk realized upon reflection.

McCoy glanced at Spock's face and nearly choked on his bread roll in laughter.

"It was an accident, Spock," Kirk assured the Vulcan humorously.

"I am… unfamiliar with the community on Tiatulu III and somewhat confused on how two people may 'accidentally' find themselves married," Spock deadpanned, his face betraying nothing (yet Kirk could tell that the Vulcan was quite wigged out).

"Basically, Spock," McCoy advised. "Don't pass a certain type of stone to someone else while under a certain tree. By their law, that's a sanctified marriage."

"I shall endeavor to remember that, Doctor," Spock said seriously.

Kirk and McCoy chuckled, finishing their dinner and letting their nerves unwind from the long trip and abrupt turn of events. The sky was a dark purple as the night deepened, and rebel soldiers were walking around putting out the fires to encase the camp in darkness.

They stretched out on their respective cots, shifting into more comfortable positions. Kirk grunted as the kinks in his back worked their way out, but sighed heartily as he felt his muscles relax.

Even as his body demanded rest, his brain still buzzed. Presumably, tomorrow was going to be a big day. They still needed their briefing from Torleone, and who knew what that would encompass- taking the capitol, capturing the leader, rescuing the other Starfleet members…

He heard McCoy's cot creak next to him and suddenly there was a face near his in the darkness. "Jim?" the doctor whispered.

"What is it, Bones?" he murmured back.

"Just been thinkin' about what we were talking about earlier," he whispered back. "About different cultures and ways?"

"Yeah…?"

"And Jim, it's true. At the briefing we _weren't_ briefed on the customs of this planet."

"So?"

"So," McCoy sounded slightly agitated. "We don't know what kind of new government these rebels have planned- or the one that we're supposed to take down."

Kirk had closed his eyes, but now they popped open. He glanced over and barely made out the dim starlight reflecting off of McCoy's irises. The night was warm, but the implications of McCoy's words sent a chill down Kirk's spine. There had been earlier cases of oppressive planets joining the Federation.

"I guess we'll have to ask Torleone in the morning," he murmured in reply.

His tone was just serious enough to reassure McCoy that he got his message. "Of course, Jim," the doctor replied, sliding away from Kirk's cot. "G'night."

"Good night."

* * *

**Thanks! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, I admit that for this chapter my motivation plummeted. I've been putting it off, playing MarioKart (yes, I confessed it!) and doing other things. As such, it's a bit shorter than other chapters, but at least it's up. Thank you Scottea, BballGalKaitlin, ThatSassyCaptain, ladybrit, mtcbones, and PSW for reviewing! Here's the next installment!**

* * *

They never got the chance to ask Torleone any questions.

It happened in the early grey of dawn. The camp was just arousing from its sleep. Spock and McCoy were up, and while Spock kept to himself the doctor chatted with a field surgeon- Dr. Menlas. The two were friendly and cordial as they sipped what passed for coffee. Kirk still slept, back hidden in their shack.

The attack came without warning.

Two, thin, distant objects sailed leisurely over their heads. They were barely noticed, except by Menlas, who saw them at the last second. He sucked in a breath and murmured "Oh, God."

The missiles imploded.

Compared to old Earth-style missiles, these weren't much. But on a ramshackle camp held together by ropes and tarps? It was like Hell rained down.

"Cover!" McCoy shouted and then the earth near them erupted. He was flying through the air and Spock was, too, next to him. They landed in a heap and quickly scrambled back to their feet and beheld the oncoming carnage.

Kirk woke instantly. He flipped out of his cot and landed on the ground. Probably a good thing, as a flying projectile sailed over his head and took out the ramshackle structure.

A small number of troops were approaching from the city, machine-gunning everything in their path.

Kirk was suddenly yanked to his feet and he twisted to see Ferras pulling him up. "We're falling back to our secondary location!" Ferras shouted at him.

"Where's Spock and McCoy?" Kirk shouted back, trying to see through the smoke.

Ferras just continued to yank him on.

The rest of the battle was a blur for Kirk- fire and running and gunfire and shouting. He and Ferras hopped on a vehicle of some sort and were suddenly driving away through a dense forest. Branches whipped past and the chaos receded behind them.

Suddenly the trees fell away, and revealed a sturdy row of fortifications. This was the secondary position. It was in a lot better shape than the first campground, Kirk noticed.

They hopped off and quickly ran about coordinating survivors. Kirk kept asking anyone if they had seen Spock and/or McCoy. Each time, no one had noticed them.

More people and supplies spilled into the fortifications. Kirk kept at it, hunting for the men themselves, and any word of them.

Finally, on the last truck that rolled in- burnt and dented- some had glimpsed them.

"They're the fellows in the Starfleet uniforms?" the man said. "They were probably the only figures of interest to the government troops; I saw them loaded onto one of their trucks."

* * *

McCoy was seething. Not only was he now a prisoner of the very planetary government they were trying to overthrow, but he was a prisoner _with_ the Vulcan.

Spock was sitting next to him on the truck, ramrod straight. McCoy wondered if the Vulcan was even capable of bending his back. Great, now he was itching to get a scan of Spock.

He was startled out of his musings when the truck lurched to a halt. Quickly, he and Spock were pushed out and marched through some streets. McCoy frowned. They weren't at the city yet. This area looked more like a suburb.

Someone shouted. McCoy's head snapped up and he saw Spock grappling with a guard. Another soldier appeared and bashed the Vulcan on the head with the butt of his rifle.

"Stop it!" McCoy shouted. Spock staggered. He ran up and circled his arm around him, supporting him. He glared at the guards. "Keep your hands to yourself, busters, we're going!"

They were marched into a primitive cell holding area. The door clanged shut behind them and they were alone.

"Easy," McCoy murmured. He helped Spock sit down and lean against the wall. "Here, let me look at that."

"I am alright, Doctor," Spock gritted through.

"And you're right- that _I'm_ the doctor. Now let me look at that."

Grudgingly, Spock turned his head. McCoy examined the small gash. There was some green blood seeping through his hair, but overall it didn't look too bad.

"You'll be okay," he pronounced. "It'll be sore, so try not to knock your skull into anything else, but you'll manage."

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said dryly. "For that obvious assessment."

McCoy felt his temper flare. "Well, _excuse_ me for making sure you weren't gonna die from a fractured skull or something!" he huffed indignantly.

Spock did not deign to reply and instead stood up and tested the strength of the bars on their cell door and the tiny window. McCoy also tried and found they would not budge. Sighing, he sat down and watched Spock continue testing any means of escape.

"At least Jim got away," he murmured after a while.

Spock froze. "Yes," he agreed. "But it will be difficult for him to continue on the aid mission alone."

"It was difficult even when we were there," McCoy pointed out. "We're just three people."

"True, but that did provide better odds than one," Spock replied. "So it is imperative that we get back to him."

McCoy observed Spock some more. "You're not a normal Vulcan, are you?" he said suddenly. Spock paused and looked at him.

"Yes," McCoy got to his feet. He walked over and stood near Spock. "I've seen your eyes light up a certain way. They show exasperation, but also a certain kind of… _hope_, whenever you mention Jim."

Spock didn't move. McCoy inched closer.

"And also, you've been testing those same bars for multiple times," McCoy pointed out. "And nothing's changed. Wouldn't it be logical to stop and save your strength?"

Spock exhaled. "You are correct in that I am not an average Vulcan," he said. "My mother was a human. As for your other 'observations' I suggest that your eyes were playing tricks on you, and that I am merely looking for any weaknesses in the bars that I may have missed."

McCoy watched him continue, a slight smile creeping onto his face. This man was part human. Oddly enough, that made him feel better. Perhaps Spock would understand some of his 'illogical' behavior.

Chuckling to himself, he walked back to his corner and sat down. "Jim will be here soon," he called. "Just you watch. He has a way of coming back for people."

Spock only paused in his work. "Intriguing," he said. He continued.

* * *

"We've got to do something!" Kirk argued.

He followed Torleone around the camp. "We can't just leave them there! We need their expertise, their skill! Can-"

"Commander," Torleone cut him off, clearly exacerbated. "I understand your wish. However, we cannot change our agenda." He beckoned Kirk over to where they had stockpiled maps. Torleone pointed at a bulge from Galiat.

"This is a suburb, Hakkins. We need to raid the arsenal there. The plan was to do it today, and then attack Galiat the day after. It is early, but we're still going to go ahead with it, despite the surprise strike. Now listen closely to me. If your friends are in the jailhouse at Hakkins, fine. You may try to rescue them. If they are not there, I am not sending a covert team into the city to retrieve them. Understood?"

Kirk nodded. He sucked in a breath, praying that Spock and McCoy were just in Hakkins. "Understood."

Torleone gave him a curt nod. "Good." He sighed and looked up over the area. "Time to get organized and prepare to raid the arsenal."

Kirk agreed, though he wasn't really thinking about the arsenal. Instead, he just had his two friends on his mind. And he was determined to get them back.

* * *

**Again, not the longest, but I was under-motivated. Reviews still appreciated!**


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